


Trial and Error

by HollowHeaven



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Blood and Gore, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Gore, Heavy Angst, Mild Gore, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2019-10-29 23:34:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17817650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollowHeaven/pseuds/HollowHeaven
Summary: [G1 Transformers x Reader - Oneshots]So you’re stuck in a war that began on another planet and you decide to get with one of the robot aliens that started said war?Smart. Very smart.[ON HOLD]





	1. •To Start Off•

I really have a problem. Do I really love Transformers SO much as to create ANOTHER oneshot book dedicated to my love for them? 

Yes. Yes I do.

Welcome to this weird, whacky and emotional place I call my writing. Updates depend on how much time I have to spend (which is a lot - I have no life). If you’re interested in Transformers Animated, I have a oneshot book here too. 

This whole thing is mostly just self-indulgence but if you have a request, slap that bad boy down and I’ll get to making your dreams come true.

There are only a few rules I ask you follow. :)

**Rules:**

-Only F/M; no M/M or F/F

-No NSFW

-If you request a character, make sure you give me a plot to go with it (makes it easier for me)

 

Thank you guys for even wanting to read this! You’re all the best. 


	2. Late Night Visits [Soundwave]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soundwave drops by to get reassurance from his squishy girlfriend when feeling overwhelmed. That includes during the night.

You sit up in the bed, hair tangled and eyes squinted at the window to see two robots, both mischievous in nature, peering into the darkness of your room. With a smack of your lips and a stretch that pops all bones in your body, you climb out of the comfort of your bed and trudge through the house.

You were so warm beneath the softness of your blankets, nestled in just the way you liked, before a huge crash outside shook your house and the glow of red light demanding you outside. It was then followed by sounds of transforming and two pairs of red optics coaxing you from sleep with ominous, hair prickling stares. Being in the middle of the woods with the city a good thirty minutes away is always a bit frightening.

But to have huge robots drop into the solitude of your yard in the middle of the night? That would seem like a bad situation had you not romanced said robot and befriended his children.

This is pretty much a normal occurrence for you, although it can be tiring most days.

Your front door unlocks with a soft click and you stumble outside, rubbing your eyes and yawning. The two boys you consider your own come running up with huge grins that causes the sleep in your face to morph into a subtle smile.

“Heya, (Y/n)!” Frenzy greets.

“We didn’t wake you, did we?” Rumble grins, already knowing the answering to his question.

“ _Ha ha_ ,” your laugh falls flat, “shut up. The only reason I dragged my butt out of bed is because I want to see Soundwave. _Not_ you.”

They reel back at your playfully harsh tone, feigning hurt and dropping into each other’s arms with staged wails. Your upper lip curls into a snarl as they drone on about how you hurt their feelings.

“There are energon candies on the counter and the tv remote is on the coffee table. Break anything, you pay me back,” you roll your eyes, motioning to the house.

“Awe, you really do love us,” Frenzy cooes, pinching your cheek.

You slap is servo away with a snort. “Pinch my cheek like that again and you won’t have a servo for much longer. That goes for the both of you.”

They push past you and into the house with obnoxiously loud snickers that are meant to ruffle your metaphorical feathers but a soft smile causes the shape of your mouth to curve upwards into a soft smile instead. No matter how bratty they may be most of the time, you can’t help but have a soft spot for them. Not that you would let them know that.

You turn back around and continue on your direct path to the one you wanted to see the most. He is already sitting in his usual spot in the grass, watching as you shuffle over to embrace him the best you can. His head tilts to the side when you lean against his leg with a sigh. A servo much bigger than those of Rumble and Frenzy’s curls around the base of your waist to keep the chilly night air at a distance.

“This is the third night this week that you have shown up unannounced. Everything okay?”

A shudder from his frame causes your lips to shift downwards into a frown. You lay your hand over his, eyes gazing up at his face with the knowledge that he most likely won’t tell you what is eating him from the inside-out. All you can really do is be there for him when he needs comforting, and with Megatron being the hotshot that he is, your Decepticon boyfriend could use all the grace you have to offer.

_“Just dropping by.”_

Soundwave doesn’t talk too much, simply because Megatron and Starscream do enough chattering for a thousand Cybertronians everyday. He has told you more than once that he doesn’t care for it. You, on the other hand, enjoy the precious moments where he feels free to speak what is on his mind. The swell in your heart only grows knowing he feels comfortable enough to say his thoughts out loud in front of your person.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me,” you start, tracing the cracks and miniature scars on his leg, “but just know that you can rant when you need to.”

“ _No need to rant. I only came by to spend some time with you, even if for a short time.”_

You can’t contain the grin that lights up your face. His optics, hidden behind the redness of his visor, watch as your face brightens into joy. There are dark circles under your eyes from lack of sleep, your hair is tangled and pointing in directions it shouldn’t and there is a sluggish tilt to your body against his leg but it doesn’t keep him from thinking about just how beautiful you look in the moment.

His servos scoop you up and clutch you against his chassis to keep you from shivering when the bitter bite of the wind nips at your exposed skin. You sink into his touch, eyes fluttering shut and the faint outline of a smile still lingering on the corners of your lips.

“You mean a lot to me, Soundwave. I hope you know that.”

Eventually, from between the warmth and almost inaudible hum coming from Soundwave’s frame, you fall back asleep. This is also a normal occurrence, and although the visits can get tiring sometimes, falling asleep in the safety of a Decepticon just feels right. Even if it shouldn’t.

These late night visits are staring to grow on you.

Soundwave couldn’t agree more.


	3. Invincible [Bumblebee]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get attacked by Ravage and almost die from the encounter. Apparently your close encounter with death triggers Bumblebee’s Sicko Mode.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like the idea of sweet little Bumblebee losing his mind when his favorite person gets hurt. Like, super ultra angry but still can’t bring himself to hurt anyone. 
> 
> My mind wouldn’t let me rest until I did this. So.

It’s getting real hard to keep your eyes open. The sight of blood is not helping, either.

You knew walking to the Arc was a bad idea, especially since Decepticon activity had been must worse lately. But controlled by determination and stubbornness, you decided that if you wanted to walk and enjoy the beautiful day, you were _not_ going to let anything get in your way. Even if it got you into trouble.

Which is exactly what happened.

You stop in your tracks, sweat beading down the side of your face, and take the moment to examine the damage to your leg and other various parts that Ravage had sunk his teeth into. A strangled moan of pain bubbles up your throat when rolling up your pants leg to see the maul wounds bleeding at a dangerous rate. You’re ninety percent sure that one of Ravage’s teeth nicked an artery.

Most wise people would head for the hospital, but since the hospital is much farther than the Arc, you wanted to take your chances in actually surviving. Ratchet may not be too familiar with human anatomy but Spike has been in quite a few tragedies that Ratchet had to patch up. It was—still is—your best shot.

You are most surprised that your leg is still somewhat recognizable after Ravage’s jaw had clenched around the base and shook his head like a dog with a chew toy. Not to mention the long, feline-like slashes running down your arms and puncture wounds around your neck.

It was probably a good thing no one was around when you managed to almost stab the life out of Ravage with a piece of shrapnel and then proceed to let out a slur of curses towards Soundwave who had not been too far away, watching the whole scene with a gleam in those red optics of his.

You felt victorious in the moment, but now that you are close to passing out from blood loss and rushing against time, well, you don’t feel so victorious anymore. It’s more of a bittersweet feeling now, and there is more bitter than sweet.

You sigh when seeing the entrance to the Arc, tears surfacing in relief. It takes at least ten more minutes of hobbling to get to your friends for help, all while fear claws at your throat, but smelling the scent of oil when walking inside immediately causes the tightness in your chest to release.

Everyone inside still hasn’t noticed your presence standing at the entrance, hands cupped over your wounds and trying not to burst into a mess of tears and snot. Trying to shout for help seems so impossible with the choking up you’re doing, like something is constricting your airways so there is no way to get the help you need before the last of your time clocks out.

The first of your friends you see is Optimus, Ratchet and Wheeljack engaged in a deep conversation over by Teletran One. Their backs are turned to you and boy do you wish that one of them would turn around to notice you bleeding out.

You scan the rest of the area for your minibot boyfriend, in hopes that you can lay eyes on him one last time before blacking out and never waking back up. A smile, although more of a wince than a smile, curls at your lips when seeing him chatting the Spike and Sparkplug not too far from where Optimus is standing.

He has no clue that you’re bleeding out on the floor. No clue at all. His face holds the brightest grin and your heart sinks down to your stomach at the realization of you might actually die without getting to hold him again if you don’t try to call out for help.

Okay, like _hell_  you’re going to bleed out before kissing your beloved bot one last time.

You take a deep breath, vision swaying, and hope that their Cybertronian hearing doesn’t fail you.

“Please help,” you manage to choke out in a whisper, only for it to fall on deaf audials.

“Yo, I’m kind of _dying_  over here,” you try again, to no prevail.

Out of all the times your loudmouth has gotten you into trouble, why could it have not saved you this one time? Everyone is always telling you to shut up and experience the silence, so of course the one time you try out their advice, it actually gets you killed. How ironic.

You collapse to your knees, too weak to keep upright any longer, and begin to silently cry as nausea and the feeling of a fever sinks into your bones. The bloody puddle collecting under you sinks into your clothes, reminding you that this is really happening and it is more than frightening. It’s _terrifying_.

A strangled gasp leaves your mouth and your eyes close to avoiding watching as your vision becomes more blurry and fuzzy by the second. At this point you can’t even see Bumblebee’s body, just the color yellow in thick splotches.

“Is that (Y/n)?”

Your eyes flick open when hearing Spike’s voice and the sound of heavy footsteps closing in. A few stray tears fall down your face before you go limp.

•••

“Where’s Bumblebee?”

Ratchet and Spike pause mid conversation, both turning to see you wrenching yourself up with a grimace. Spike’s tense shoulders relax when you offer a stiff smile to assure them that you’re okay, and he comes barreling over to tackle you in a hug.

Your first initial thought when opening your eyes was, “am I dead?” but the longer you took to refocus your sight and seeing the orange colored walls of the Arc and the panicked voices of your extraterrestrial family, you knew that Ratchet had somehow kept you alive. Despite the feeling like you got run over by a dozen buses, you are more than thankful to have some more time on earth.

“What is _wrong_  with you?” He cries, squeezing your shoulders.

“Sorry,” you murmur, pulling him for a big.

“We didn’t think you would make it,” Spike starts, mumbling into your shoulder, “you lost a lot of blood. Ratchet was surprised you survived for as long as you did.”

“You were inches away from death,” Ratchet chimes in, “and we almost lost you.”

Spike pulls away, wiping his tears on his sleeve. “I have to go get Bee. He hasn’t been the same since seeing you the way you looked yesterday.”

Before you can ask about anything more on Bumblebee, Spike is already running out of the room. Ratchet walks over and bends down to meet your eye height, face stoic. His servos are covered in crushed blood, giving you a hunch that he hasn’t taken the time to leave you be and take care of himself for once.

“How are you feeling?”

You swallow down your concern for Bumblebee, although not very well because the worry is written all over your face, but you preoccupy yourself by checking on your now stitched up wounds. Scars will be left in their wake, that much you can tell. Huge scars that will never fade, even over time.

But dang do you feel cool.

“I have a headache and, oh, you know, it just feels like I was stomped into the ground by Megatron himself. Kind of feel like vomiting, too,” you answer with a quivering smile.

“I did everything I could. But you should still go to a hospital immediately,” Ratchet says, voice dripping with seriousness.

Your eyebrows furrow. “Not until I see Bumblebee. If not for him, I probably would have given up. I would probably be dead by now.”

“You might not want to, (Y/n). Bee practically lost his mind when we first found you. I have never seen him lose his mind like that. He was shouting and throwing things out of anger. It was... awful.”

“Well, I have never seen Ravage tear someone apart with my own eyes but look where I am, Ratchet. I would lose my mind if Bee come home like this, too,” you frown, hands clenching.

Ratchet gives your words some thought, face screwed into a scowl before nodding in understanding and leaving the room, but not without doing a double take back at you. You watch him go, heart lurching up your throat when he is replaced by Bumblebee bolting into the room with an expression that says too many things at once.

“Oh, Primus. You’re alive. Spike wasn’t lying.”

His hands are cradling you before you can even blink, forehead pressed against yours. You reach up to cup his face with your trembling hands and feel him lean into your touch with such eagerness.

“I thought I had lost you,” he whimpers.

“You almost did. But I’m okay, Bee. Really, if you keep shaking like that I’m going to cry. Are you okay?”

His relieved smile turns sour. “I should be the one asking you that.”

“Ratchet said you aren’t yourself. I’m just making sure you really are okay,” you stroke his cheek, eyes watery.

He goes quiet, wrath flashing in his optics, and you go stiff at the unfamiliar aura around your usually sweet boyfriend who would never hurt a fly unless forced to do so.

“Who did this to you?”

You purse your lips, uneasiness sinking in your gut. “Ravage attacked me on the main road.”

His face falls into sadness, lips tipping into a frown deep enough to be stuck on his face for the rest of his life. You pull his face close and press your lips to his, cradling him tight despite the pain erupting throughout your bones. His servos go limp at your sides as you continue to pepper his whole face with kisses.

The first few times you try to pull away, he only leans forward for more with a whine that sets your face aflame. If you weren’t a small human with life threatening injuries, you just might have just kept going. 

“I guess you could say I’m invincible,” you say when pulling back, a smile stretching across your face.

Bumblebee’s face goes slack with shock before the sadness behind the surface of his baby blue optics is replaced by the bright eyed gleam that you fell in love with. You are so smitten and he doesn’t even know it.

He snickers, bumping his forehead against yours once more. “Not even close.”

“That’s what you say. We’ll see who gets the last laugh when I outlive you.”


End file.
